InterGalactic Relations
by LCAAS
Summary: America has always been able to see aliens. But he'd never met aliens like this before!


**InterGalactic Relations**

_bookworm_

_AN: *finally gets around to posting this* I apologise for the brain-breakage that follows. Yes, this is a Transformers/Axis Powers Hetalia crossover. For those who aren't aware, Hetalia works like this - take the countries of the world & turn them into bishie boys (and the occasional girl) and then play out World History using people. Yes. It is every bit as insane as it sounds. And I love it, and DON'T KNOW WHY. And since I also love Transformers....yeah. Basic summary of my brain process went as follows: "Nation-tans are immortal unless you dissolve the nation. Some Transformers, ie Starscream & Optimus Prime, are rather more immortal than others. I wonder what a Cybertronian Nation-tan would look like." No, I don't know what I'm on either. I do not own anything except this thoroughly cracked idea._

**#Then#**

Arthur Kirkland, usually known as England, stifled a groan. His boss had business with America's new boss, thus necessitating a trip to visit America's house. Which meant, as usual, being dragged around town by the enthusiastic younger nation and getting his ears talked off with America's latest fascination. On this occasion, it happened to be about the newest alien residents of town of Portland. Not, England admitted privately, that it was at all unusual to see (or to hear America talk about) aliens, but even he would have to admit that giant alien transforming robots was something rather special. He had heard about them on the news, and quietly, in the privacy of his own home, could even admit to wanting to see them himself. And it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy seeing the younger nation. He just wished America wasn't always so..._LOUD_ about it.

"It was rather strange, you know?" America said thoughtfully, finally winding down and fortunately seeming to have missed England's inattention "The first meeting, I mean. They were nothing like I was expecting."

England opened his mouth to comment, but it was at that moment that they both became aware of the rapidly approaching drone of jet engines (too low and too fast for civilian airspace), and looking up their eyes were drawn immediately to the brightly coloured jets stooping down on the townsfolk. Both nations acted on instinct - bolting out into the street and yelling warnings for the townsfolk to get to cover. Then the shooting and screaming started.

**#In the beginning#**

America had been at the first official meeting, standing quietly (well, mostly quietly) at the back of the room, as he always was. He had seen them before, of course, but never this close, and was hard pressed to stop grinning like a loon. He didn't expect to be noticed, but then, he rarely was. It was always hard to explain to people, that _yes_, he really _was_ actually the United States of America, thanks; unless they were already familiar with him or those like himself. Most of the time, people just assumed he was part of the staff, and ignored him. Which was why he was surprised to see one of the black and white robots (no, no, they prefer to be called _mechs_, he corrected himself) on either side of their leader ('Optimus Prime' he had introduced himself) pay sudden attention to him during its (no, _his_) sweep of the room. Blinking in surprise he smiled back and waved discreetly, trying to work out why those sharp eyes (or wait, perhaps _optics_ was a better word?) were looking at him with such intent surprise.

Later, after the (boring) official parts of the day were done, America found himself not entirely surprised to be approached by the police car mech, who he recalled being introduced as Prowl, the Autobot's second in command. They exchanged pleasantries, America choosing to use his human name rather than try for a complicated explanation, and then stalled, stifled by the strange uncertainty in the air. Staring at the mech, America tried to pin down the source of his uneasiness. It would not do, after all, for a hero to seem indecisive. In the end, they both spoke at the same time.

"Are you...like me?"

**#Now#**

"America, if you do not stop that _RIGHT THIS INSTANT_ I swear that the minute we get loose I am going to _KILL_ you."

Alfred F. Jones, otherwise known as the United States of America, ignored the irate growl from his fellow captive and continued to beam excitedly at his captor, practically bouncing in delight despite his restraints. Their captor, on the other hand, looked torn between being flummoxed or annoyed. Annoyed was rapidly winning.

"But England, isn't this the coolest thing ever?"

"We" the other country enunciated clearly and very, very deliberately, "are being held captive by a GIANT ALIEN ROBOT. An _EVIL_ Giant Alien Robot."

"Who turns into a _JET_!"

"...who turns into a jet, yes, which has NOTHING WHATSOVER to do with this topic! So _**NO**_. I do not, in any way, shape or form, find this situation 'cool'!" the Englishman snapped at the younger country. "So STOP BOUNCING, you big lummox! Or has it escaped you that we are in a potentially life-threatening situation here?"

"Bah!" America dismissed his concerns cheerfully. "The Hero never dies, that's impossible! There's no way the Good Guys loose, so obviously we're gonna escape!"

"And _how_ exactly are you planning to do this with _him_ standing RIGHT THERE?!" England jerked his head in the direction of their captor.

"Eh, I'll think of something!" America countered blithely.

Snarling, England turned his ire to a different target. Green eyes shot up to glare at the increasingly irritated red optics hovering over them "Can't you shut him up? It is your fault, after all, that we are in this situation in the first place!"

Said red optics narrowed in a glare of their own as weapons charged ominously. "Watch your tongue squishy! You're hardly in a position to argue!"

"Bah, now that you know what we are, it's not like you can kill us anyway." England matched him glare for glare.

"Care to test that?" was the sneering response from the red and white jet, one barrel of a null ray coming to hover dangerously close to their heads. "Even if you can't die, I can certainly hurt you!"

Ignoring the looming jet, America twisted in his bonds to beam at England "And he's like us! Isn't that just AWESOME?!"

England looked blankly at his former colony, then up at their captor again. "I've changed my mind. Shoot me first."

**#Sometime in the future#**

"England, I fail to see why we are required to hold the UN meeting outdoors! This is a total travesty of our normal process and flouts all the rules!"

"_Mon cher_, much as it pains me to agree with Germany, I must wonder at this strange madness that afflicts you to be agreeing with America so. More than usual, anyway. Perhaps your 'special relationship' with him goes too far, hmm?"

"Shut your gob, you pervert, I'm not your "_cher_" and never will be. And if you would stop bloody arguing all the time, perhaps you'd have a better relationship with America yourself!"

"Don't start another fight, aru~! "

"Russia, can't you stop them ~ve?"

"Eh, I is not finding myself inclined to bother right now."

"Ah, excuse me? Perhaps if we are to go outside now? America-san is here, and I believe we should not keep our honoured guests from waiting"

"Guests?"

"Hi everyone! I wanted you all to meet someone. This is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots! Or you can call him the city-state of Iacon from the planet Cybertron!"


End file.
